Militia Up

by J. L. Curtis

  “So this is what you were up to?”

  Nicole replied, “Well, we didn’t want to send them away mad. Besides they needed to cycle some foodstuff that was getting close to expiring. And it’s mostly made friends with them.”

  Fargo glanced around, noting Ghorka and Herms intermingling around the center of the village, and nodded. “Damn good idea. What did they do with that senior sergeant? Is she still alive?”

  “Hera? Yes, Nirvik only took her hand. He didn’t kill her, and our medics jumped in. She was onboard Hyderabad, and in the med comp before you ever got down here. Oh, and the colonel busted her to private on the spot.”

  “Considering the alternative, she should be glad of that.”

  Lal said, “But she will never be allowed back here. And will be shunned by all Ghorka for her actions. To continue the attack after the exercise was ended, much less for the fact that she attacked a clan elder, much less a kukri maker… she’s lucky she’s leaving here alive.”

  Fargo grimaced. “Including the Fleet, right?”

  Lal nodded grimly, “Everywhere there are Ghorka.”

  “Then her, its, career is done.”

  Nicole tugged his sleeve, “Fargo, look!” She pointed to Nirvik sitting in a chair in front of one of the houses with a broken door, and Master Chief Aphrodite on her knees in front of him, her hands clasped together. As they watched, Nirvik reached out gently and touched Aphrodite on the head, almost as if blessing her. They saw her nod, then rise and walk blindly out of the Enclave, toward the Hyderabad.

  Nirvik saw them looking, and waved. He got up slowly and limped over, “Ekavir, you saw what happened?”

  Fargo nodded. “I did. I tried…” He reached out to Nirvik with his psi sense.

  Nirvik waved him off, “We left her alive since she was a hothead. We counted on the fact that she would go off and try something stupid. We just didn’t realize how stupid.” Fargo grimaced as he touched Nirvik and felt his absolute certainty that he could have and would have killed the Herm, as Nirvik continued, “I heard the FINEX call, and that is the only thing that saved her. If not for that, I would have killed her.”

  “I’m amazed she didn’t get you. She’s younger, fitter, and…”

  “Doesn’t have over a hundred years of knife fighting experience. She was so predictable, everything by the book. And I literally wrote the book,” Nirvik laughed, then said, “But who is going to fix my door? It was open, and they were supposed to be simulating that!”

  “Maybe a working party from the losers?”

  “Ah, that would be appropriate!”

  “Captain Culverhouse,” Fargo yelled. When he turned, “Join us please?”

  Mack and Bob came over, and Fargo said, “Gents we’ve got busted doors, and they need to be replaced. Would you mind putting a working party together to make that happen? Especially since the doors were open?”

  Mack nodded. and Bob said, “I’ll get right on it. Hyderabad has a shop on board, right?”

  “That it does. Coordinate with Captain Jace, if you would.”

  “Consider it done.”

  ***

  A week later, Fargo was back in the major’s office for the out brief. “Did you ever figure out why that sergeant went nuts on Nirvik?”

  The major rolled her eyes as Mack said, “According to the Chief Sergeant, she was the catcher in her latest relationship and apparently a little too submissive. She’d apparently been dumped the night before the exercise, and had been ranting and raving about how she wasn’t submissive and dared anyone to tell her so.”

  “So she tripped off line, and attacked a hundred and thirty-eight year old icon in the village?”

  Bob sighed, “Well, she was also one of the planners for the company’s approach, and we all saw how well that worked out, didn’t we. Or should I say those of you that didn’t get killed immediately, saw how it worked out!”

  “What’s going to happen to her?”

  Jackie replied, “She let her guard down, and was vulnerable in the relationship. Not a good place for her to be. She’s not exactly under guard, but we’re watching her. She’s finally realized what she did, and knows it’s the end of her career. She’ll be admin’ed out at the end of the deployment, and sent back to her planet of origin, but not with a negative discharge. At least that way she can find some other kind of employment.” She turned to Mack and Bob and continued briskly, “Now, about the debrief…”

  Three divs later, two very abashed captains walked out of her office, and Fargo asked, “Weren’t you a little hard on them?”

  “No, they frikkin well knew better. They knew from the start your folks were going to hammer them into the ground. They should have stopped the planning and redirected it to a more workable solution, but no…” she said with a sigh.

  Fargo nodded. “Okay, for the next one, you want to do armor? It might be safer for all concerned.”

  “Oh hell yes. Because I will control the armament. There will not be another screw up like this one.”

  Job Offer

  Fargo sat on top of the Hab van, scanning for any sign of the Silverbacks he could sense. Dammit, the sooner we finish this feeder, the better I’ll feel. This one has been jinxed from the get-go. Jiri, Kamala, and Daman filled out the rest of the security team for the feeder installation, keeping watch twenty-four/seven for predators and other things until the site was in; the sonics up and working.

  Kamala’s sultry voice came through the earbud, “Movement northeast and just below the lip of the ridge. Mammal of some type, maybe a cat.”

  Reaching out with his empathic sense, he touched two minds, but they weren’t like Cattus or the Silverbacks. These were pure predators. He tried to project a sense of danger to them, but that didn’t work, and he sensed them slinking closer. He flipped his mic to on, “Everybody under cover?”

  Kamala came back, “All inside. You’re the sole outside person.”

  “Okay, two predators. I’m going to try to take them out. See if you can see where the second one goes after I hit the first one.”

  “Wilco.”

  Reaching down, he picked up his 16mm bead rifle and flipped the holo sight on. He brought it slowly to his shoulder, let a breath out slowly, and locked on where he thought the cat would appear. He sensed it creeping closer, and took another breath, just as the first cat came over the ridge. Just as he pressed the firing stud, the second cat popped up, and he didn’t even think, just put a second round into it.

  Both cats went down, and Kamala asked, “Did you get them both?”

  “Yes. Ask Daman to come relieve me and I’ll go look at them. They are different.”

  Daman came on the net, “On the way.” Less than a seg later, he was settling into the chair and said, “Those are… Nearcats?”

  Fargo shook his head. “I think nearleopards. I’ll go see.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one. The spots are pretty.”

  “And damn good camouflage. They’re normally only seen in warm veldt type climates.”

  Daman laughed. “Like where we are? You know the women will want those for collars for their coats.”

  “We’ll see. Kamala yes, but the other one? That might bring some money off planet.” Fargo climbed down, looked around then headed toward the two nearleopards.

  Jiri stuck his head out of the Hab, “Need any help?”

  “Nah, I’ll skin them out real quick. Go back to sleep.”

  Jiri disappeared back into the Hab, as Fargo leaned his rifle against a boulder that hadn’t been moved because it was too heavy. Dragging the first of the cats over, he pulled out his knife, clicked it on, and quickly skinned the first nearleopard. Pulling the second one over, he skinned it out, noting it was female, and was pondering the pair’s method of hunting, when Kamala screamed, “Fargo!”

  He looked up to see a Silverback in mid-leap, and threw the carcass of the nearleopard up as he frantically rolled toward the boulder. He felt a sharp pain in his
left arm as he grabbed his rifle, dimly hearing another rifle firing. He spun, saw the Silverback biting the carcass, and triggered four shots into its rear end, praying he was hitting the hearts. It screamed and collapsed, as he fired one final aimed shot at where he knew each heart was. He opened his empathic sense in panic, knowing the other one was somewhere close. He felt the second one scrambling up the slope in a killing rage, saw it out of the corner of his eye, and scrambled frantically behind the boulder, resting the rifle on it with one hand as he took a sight on the lip of the ridge. He started to feel lightheaded, felt the pharmacope kick in, and started to feel his senses fading. Dammit, don’t tell me I’m going to get killed by my own damn stupidity… Gotta hang… on…

  The second Silverback charged over the lip of the ridge, and Fargo pumped rounds into it until the rifle was empty and the Silverback was piled up against the opposite side of the boulder. Sliding down, he leaned back against the boulder as the rifle slid from his hand. Looking down at his left arm, he saw that he was bleeding heavily and most of his bicep was hanging loose. This isn’t good. Not good at all…

  He heard Jiri and Daman yelling and wondered why they were so far away as he blacked out. What he didn’t know was Jiri was holding his brachial artery closed to keep him from bleeding out, as Daman frantically got a tourniquet on. As soon as they did that, they pulled the bicep back up and wrapped it in a sterile bandage, while Kamala called for Mikhail to bring the shuttle back.

  Three days later, he felt a touch in his mind, “Fargo are you there?”

  “Where is here? OneSvel?”

  “You’re in the med comp at Rushing River. What did we tell you about being tired of fixing you back up?”

  “Uh, you weren’t happy?”

  “You are correct. You are lucky to be alive. If it had not been for your pharmacope, and Jiri and Daman, you would be dead now.”

  “I know. I was stupid, I lost concentration. I missed…”

  “Only the fact that Mikhail was within twenty segs of the site saved you. And our having four units of blood expander in the onboard emergency kit. Otherwise, you would have bled out.”

  “My arm itches…”

  “Good, that means the nerves are regenerating. Now go back under.”

  ***

  Fargo looked at Luann, “I’m sorry. I do not have a death wish. I am not trying to kill myself!”

  She banged a skillet down on the heating unit with a loud clang, “Ethan, twice in three months is too close for comfort. I’m thinking you need to move down here, and start working with us. I think you’ve got some issues,” she tapped her head, “that you’re not willing to admit to.”

  It was all Fargo could do not to use his psi sense to see what she was really meaning, since he’d never told her or Mikhail about that new ability. But she was radiating concern and anger in equal proportions that his empath sense readily picked up. He sighed as he tried once more to calm her as he projected calm, “Luann Jean, I have a life. I’m not going to kill myself. And I’ve been checked out by both Doc Grant and OneSvel. There is nothing wrong with me. I made a mistake…”

  “A mistake? A mistake? Ethan James Fargo you are the only family I have left. I will not see you dead because of your own stupid masculine ego!”

  He projected calm and tried a different line of answers, “So, you want me to not protect Mikhail? You want me to not protect our community? Is that what you really want?”

  Luann threw up her hands, “Oh hell, I don’t know… I just don’t want you dead,” she cried.

  Tears rolled down her face, and Fargo gently gathered her in his arms, “I don’t want to be dead either.”

  She pushed him away, “Now get out of here. I’m trying to get dinner ready.”

  He nodded gently, “Okay.”

  He eased out of the kitchen, and met Mikhail in the hallway. Mikhail was projecting worry, and Fargo sighed mentally, What the hell is going on around here today? First Luann melting down on me, and now Mikhail is worried as hell about something.

  Mikhail cleared his throat, “Uh, Ethan, I’ve got something I need to talk to you about.” He waved a printout vaguely, “Can we talk in the office?”

  “Sure.”

  Mikhail sat down heavily, still holding the printout. “What would you think about a security contract to protect TBT equipment?”

  Fargo cocked his head. now very alert. “What and where?”

  “Endine.” Shoving the printout at Ethan, he sat back and steepled his hands. “I’ve been waiting till you got well. It’s for a minimum of ninety days.”

  Fargo quickly scanned the printout. “This is for…a full blown Grey Lady security contract. I don’t…”

  “Aren’t your guys and girls working for Grey Lady?”

  “The militia? Yes, but…”

  “The Earth office wants the system protected, and GalPat doesn’t have the personnel to loan out, even if we paid for them. Grey Lady does this, and your folks…”

  “All four feeder sites? That’s… probably fifty people. Plus some support.” He glanced at the printout again, “How much?” He whistled when the numbers sorted themselves out in his head, “Damn, that’s full combat pay!”

  Mikhail held up his hands. “I doubt that combat will be required. It’s just to keep the sites safe until the company gets a grip on their security issues. All I know is what you see there. I had put the request up channels after what happened to us a few months ago, because of the potential damage to our systems on Endine.”

  Fargo leaned back. “I can’t speak for the company. All I can do is bring it before them, and I’ll have to let the GalPat Det at White Beach know. But since there is a GalPat company parked here right now, it might be doable.”

  ***

  Fargo walked into the clinic, looking for OneSvel. He needed to get this out to the GalScout command, and see what they thought. “Hallo?”

  OneSvel came thumping down the hallway. “Fargo? Anything wrong?”

  Fargo projected, “Is anyone else here?”

  OneSvel answered, “No, Doc Grant is down in White Beach for the quarterly medical updates. Why?”

  Fargo held out the printout. “This is why…”

  OneSvel took it with a pseudopod, then his GalTrans spit out tones Fargo had learned were the equivalent of laughter. “I was going to message you to come in. This solves that problem. Command is aware of this, I believe they engineered it. There are concerns over the possibility that the Traders or Dragoons have a foothold in that system, possibly on Endine. If the Dragoons are there, they are obviously covert. There are also questions about ice mining, and there is an ice moon in that system. There is an adjacent system where Command thinks there is ongoing extraction of hydrocarbons, based on things that are being seen. Their solution was to have the Grey Lady be contracted, knowing you and your militia are the only Grey Lady component within this sector of the Rim.”

  Fargo shook his head. “A little presumptive aren’t they? Assuming me or any of the militia are willing to go haring off for probably four months? Even at full combat pay, I’m not sure how many…”

  “One million credits a month. At least. Two million credits a month if you take the entire company. You will have to turn people away. These are proud people. We have researched them. This would allow them to expand their enclave, and bring more Ghorka here.”

  Fargo sighed, “Maybe. So this is all being orchestrated from Earth?”

  OneSvel ‘laughed’ again, “Who knows? We do not. You have only yourself to blame. Had you not gone and been hurt, it may well have never come to Command’s attention.”

  “Well, I guess I better to beard the lions in their den.”

  “Beard the lions?”

  “An old Earth saying. My father said that when it was something he didn’t want to do, like arguing with my mother.” Fargo turned and headed for the door, “I’ll head out there now. I’ll let you know as soon as I get an answer.”

  Four divs later, F
argo landed at the Enclave. As he walked up toward the village, Kamala rushed out to meet him, “Ekavir, I am so sorry, I…”

  Fargo held up a hand, “Nothing to be sorry for. I was stupid, not you. Your warning saved my life. That and getting Mikhail there as soon as you did.”

  “But…”

  Fargo stopped, “Kamala, I’m here, alive, and fully recovered. I bear you no ill will. None. Shit happens.”

  She shrugged. “But I still feel bad.”

  Fargo started walking again, “Do you know what happened to the nearleopard pelts?”

  “Jiri has them, along with the Silverback pelts. Nirvik cured them. They are beautiful!”

  “Where is Jiri?”

  “He, Horse, and Lal are in the weapons building. They are doing maintenance on the equipment, along with others.”

  Fargo angled toward the building, “Thank you.”

  He went through the front, didn’t see anyone, and opened the door to the bay with the armor. Hearing a string of what he guessed were curses in Nepalese, he followed the sound until he stood in back of one of the armored Phantom IIs. Lal and Jiri were up on a work stand, holding a pair of legs, as a voice continued cursing from deep in the suit.

  Lal saw him, said something and he and Jiri hauled a still cussing Horse out of the armor, “Dare I ask?” he said with a laugh.

  Jiri smiled. “Horse is complaining the left haptic actuator for his leg is not calibrated properly. He has been adjusting it without success, since it passes BIT every time.”

  A red faced Horse dropped a tool with a clang. “F’ing thing is off, it throws me off balance when I accelerate. I don’t care what BIT says.”

  Fargo asked, “Did you adjust it with your AI? And that didn’t work?”

  “Adjust it with the AI? That’s not…”

  They cracked up at the expression on Horse’s face. “You mean…”

  Lal shook his head. “Didn’t bother to read the manual on the new armor, did you?”

  Horse opened his mouth, shut it, turned red, and jumped down from the maintenance stand, mumbling under his breath as he stalked out.

  Lal and Jiri hopped down, and Jiri asked, “You here for your pelts? I hope? Sushma keeps trying to get me to give one to her. She says…”